May 20th, 2183 Serpent Nebula, the Citadel.
The citadel, the place of government for half of the known galaxy, the center of trade and commerce for a trillion souls, lay clouded in a sea of civilian transports. Shipping lanes once full of freighters or bulk ore haulers now lay clogged in the mess of a station-wide evacuation. Millions of people sat at its docks, peddling their devalued currency or personal belongings to secure a ride off of the station in the hope of just surviving another day, another hour in this ruptured galaxy. Riots broke out as ships left, hundreds died from both CSEC and the people themselves as they realized there would be no escape for them on a world far from here.
Many wished to turn their anger towards those they deemed responsible for all of this, those they deemed as targets as they awaited their fate. Humanity, the newcomers who had been here for close to three decades, now lay in the sights of every citizen who blamed this entire situation on them. Who was attacking? Humans. Who did the empire support above all else? Humans. Whose ships had committed Genocide on a galactic scale and cut off half of the known galaxy? HUMANS. All this hate, all this anger for a species many saw as nobodies only boiled to the surface under the pressure of imminent Imperial occupation.
Mercs, CSEC, even random citizens who had banded together in their shared hatred for humanity, it didn't matter. All across the Citadel human citizens were hunted down by these groups and killed due to the species they had been born into. Tens of thousands died in an hour as raving bands of mercenaries used APCs and other armored vehicles to deal with any possible opposition. What had once been the Systems alliance sector on the station, the last true bastion of a free people not united under the Imperial cog, lay ablaze under the fires of hatred and racism. politicians and generals tried to reason with the rioters, telling them they were on their side, that they fought the empire tooth and nail just like them, it did not matter. These brave few died like the rest, butchered with omni blades or cut down under ME fire.
Admiral David Anderson was still at Citadel's central command when the first reports of this ongoing genocide hit the news. Reporters from every station available live-streamed groups of marauding people committing these acts upon defenseless civilians. From the spires of CCC, Anderson could see the black smoke rising from the human sector as fires burned out the place he had once called home.
"De'Thul come on!"
What was left of high command had bunkered down, waiting out the inevitable as reports of imperial warships came from the edge of the system. Their ships lay in ruin across a hundred systems they had called battle too, millions of sailors now left to float in the void as the map of Citadel space became bleaker and bleaker by the day. Two months thought Anderson, two months and the most powerful government to ever exist in this universe now lay broken and shattered upon its very capitol. How many planets had he watched in real-time be butchered? How many soldiers had he left to their fate as his fleets ran, ran for the Mass relays at the edge of the system in the hopes of surviving for one more push, one more attack, one more day of living?
It was all for naught now, those ships, those troops he had heard screaming over the radio, the people he had left to die were just that, dead. All of them were now dead, their systems now firmly controlled in what CCC had deemed the red zone. The areas of the galaxy now controlled by the Empire, the places they had willing let go in the hopes of building a rock for the empire to die on. There had been rocks, defensive bastions that could in their day stand under the greatest fires, wither the harshest storms, and come out on top, willing and able to fight off this menace to galactic society. They had burned, the ships and troops responsible for their defense had broken under the withering fire of the imperial war machine.
There had been scant victories of course and here their allied fleets would catch an Imperial warship alone and unattended. A star destroyer here, a cruiser there, scant victories which would then be made front page in the news as a sign to the people that the tables had turned and that the allies were pushing them back. And then the other stories would play, of worlds burned, of cities razed to the ground, of massacres of until proportions being enacted upon the populations of worlds which had for a thousand years served their people.
"Holy shit, look at that!"
Anderson looked to the vidscreen as a freighter full of holes and billowing smoke crash-landed into the Human zone. Fighter followed it in, blowing holes into its structure before it crashed with an explosion capable of making the ground shake even here. Every officer in the room felt the vibration but none paid attention, all were too busy watching sensor buoys around the nebula pick up on Imperial warships slowly but surely closing a noose around the station. What had started as small frigate class warships scooting around the edge of the buoy's range had quickly turned into something they had all waited days to come. First one, then two, then five, a dozen, a hundred signals came back reporting the same exact ship coming from all directions. Star destroyers in the hundred now lay prowling at the edge of the system, waiting on the order to attack. But what were they waiting for? This puzzled Anderson and everyone else, in the past they would attack as quickly as possible and bombard any resistance into submission, so why wait?
The answer came in the form of Systems alliance, or he should say former alliance vessels began approaching from the Mass Relay. Systems alliance troops transports shot out into realspace beside a dozen Imperial troopships loaded for bare. Each Of these vessels, constructed using Alliance funds and crewed by alliance personnel now blared out their new allegiance in the form of their identification codes. INV York, INV Moscow, INV Delhi, INV Phoenix, to name a few, each of them had once dutifully served the system alliance in one way or another. But those allegiances were gone, destroyed in the great betrayal as it was called in the alliance military. These once proud service members had turned their guns on the people they called warriors willingly and damned a hundred worlds to the empire.
The TV reporter was rambling on about something or another as yet another atrocity was committed upon his people. In these last hours, he could see the pull the empire had on his former servicemen, how quick their fellow species had turned on humanity, how fast they went for violence when it came to the human question. At this point, he was slowly hoping the empire would begin their assault already so that the real war could begin and this senseless massacre would end.
The double doors to the room were suddenly thrown open as gunfire reverberated off the metal walls. Two CSEC officers fell inward, covered in blood and missing limbs, the Turians fell in a pile of gore as the aggressors entered the room. Every officer and guard pulled their weapon as a hundred beings entered the room that had once been reserved for Citadel command. The killers had come for his head, he would not go willingly.
34th Special Operations Brigade, 1st Battalion, Bravo Squad.
"All systems check."
"Check."
"Check."
"Check."
"Rog, control all systems reading green, we are good for drop."
"Rog Bravo Lead, forty seconds, prepare for insertion."
Imperial Intelligence had been on the station known as the citadel for a month now, combing areas and providing strategic oversight to high command on just what they would be facing here. Actual agents, random civilians, and former Cerberus operatives turned Imperial provided everything they needed to determine where to hit, where to bleed, and where to stroke the fires of hatred. The riots that currently ravaged the station were of course there doing, a bribe here, a losing of restrictions there, and the overall atmosphere on the station created by the encroaching imperial advance had all led up to this moment. A single spark had started it all, a provocateur located on the docks had been activated at just the right moment to set the entire station ablaze. A batarian, paid off by an unknown source, had brought an assault rifle to a systems alliance sock and let loose.
Screaming obscenities, and every manner of hate-filled spittle he could, his unknown source of income had promised an extraction in the form of an undercover CSEC team. What he had found after gunning down close to a hundred people and running toward the predetermined extract point was a CSEC tactical team that let loose on sight. A day later, after the shooter motives had been determined it began. Groups of humans both loyal and unloyal to the alliance banded together and attacked any alien who found themselves within the Alliance zone. Hundred died to bats, Omni blades, and beating as anything not of homo sapien descent was killed off or driven out in the hours that would later be called "The day of revolution." Ever since humanity had come onto the galactic stage it had boiled under the surface of smiles and cooperation. The hatred the races felt toward the newcomer, the small acts of violence perpetrated by those deemed "radicals." The worst of it all was the councils continued allowance of Batarian pirate raids on alliance worlds, the aftermath of which resulted in lip service to the alliance due to the human batarian cultural differences. This only let it fester, for years, decades, this hatred only grew as both sides squared off below the surface and began seeing each other as nothing more than rivals. No one would admit this of course, in military and political circles it was all smiles and laughs as the council announced the new age of prosperity both sides had entered.
This was all a lie, a sham they told themselves to make them feel good at night as they looked over the growing number of attacks on humans and nonhumans. The empire capitalized on this wholeheartedly knowing in the event this turned into a race war they would be welcomed as the saviors of the human race by their people. They would be welcomed with open arms, to the joy of the people who had suffered for too long under an alien appendage. They would-be liberators.
"10 seconds, all pods showing green, all commandos prepare to make the empire proud!"
Bravo squad stiffened within their armor, all too ready and prepared for what was coming next.
"DROP….DROP….DROP."
Drop pods, a tool used to insert special forces and pathfinders since the beginning of the interstellar war. These cylindrical devices could house four soldiers and safely allow them to be launched from orbit and onto the surface of a plant or space station. For boarding actions, the pods came with a laser-heated drill capable of blowing through armor plates and into the bowls of ships. Right now they were to be used as a transport device for depositing the first imperial soldiers on the Citadel. It was a weightless feeling at first, as the pod left the belly of the stealth ship and entered into the vacuum of space. Within seconds the pod's thruster activated and the pod was shot forth towards its target and blinding speeds, to an onlooker it would look like a shooting star, to an Imperial trooper it was salvation. The lances of fire breaking the black void and thundering toward the ground in a formation could mean one thing, reinforcements. But this was the Citadel, a place which had never held an Imperial trooper upon its surface until today.
"Coordinates locked, First battalion this is CC-0011. Today we make the emperor proud, today we take the fight to the heart of this alien menace! Today we bring the war home!"
In the background the audible hiss of the drop pods drill began, signaling imminent impact.
"For the Empire!"
Twenty four pods impacted along the government district with a resounding crack of the atmosphere as they broke through the mass effect fields which covered the station. Police stations, key loading docks, industrial-grade elevators, each pod had a predetermined target and objective they would take and hold until the legions arrived. A full one hundred legions of stormtroopers, alongside another thousand legions auxilia from both alien and human origin, were to land upon the station. Current population estimates with refugees from the war were determined to be around a combined thirty-eight million. Four times the normal, this overpopulation had only led to increased tensions among the populace. It would do them no good, eleven million Imperial soldiers were set to land, a hammer to strike at the center of the galaxy.
Bravo squads pod smashed into CSEC control, it's drill activated on impact the heated laser cut through feet of rebar and concrete in seconds before stopping at the first opening it came upon.
"Blow it."
Coming to a stop, Bravo two slammed the door release mechanism as he unlatched from the pod's harness. Two explosive charges blew off the half-ton door and flung it across the room they had landed in, smashing an office entirely. The dazed CSEC personnel who currently occupied the office space were still getting their bearings when the first white armored figure flew out of the opening and opened fire. Eyes wide, the officers screamed orders as they drew all manner of weapons on the invaders. They were still clearing their holsters when the first blue bolts impacted a trio too close together. One was followed by two, then the last as the commandos got to cover and began eliminating the potential threats.
"Left side, behind the overturned drink machine."
"Got em, twelve degrees left of that, two in an unused cubicle."
"Grenade out, target destroyed."
There was no yelling in their helmets, no panic in their voices, only the calm words of four brothers who had done this on a hundred worlds.
"Last one back right, looks like an officer, disabling shots only I want him alive."
Accepting their Sergeant's order two bolts shot out to the right and impacted the ankle joints of a Turian male who had been in the middle of running away. His screams gave them an acknowledgment of success, with the four moving in quickly to secure the now downed Turian.
Bravo one moved to the side of the turian while the other three took up the defense, kicking away the pistol the officer had been using he extended his built-in blade and brought it to eye level with the downed alien.
"Citadel Command and Control, where is it?"
The alien continued to scream about it destroyed ligaments to the annoyance of Bravo one.
"Fuck you! You bastards! Oh spirits, oh spirits I'm going to die, oh spirits save me!"
"One, might as well just end that thing now. It'll be of no use, that's not even its uniform."
One's head turned quizzically at three before looking back at the Turian on the ground. It was then he realized his folly, the uniform the Turian was wearing was covered in blood, yes, but too much of it for the current wearer to of put out. This miscreant had stolen it then, one of the locals looking to act like a cop then. No matter, with the shove of his blade he ended the things life before moving out.
"They are here, we are to find them and end it before it starts. Move out and search."
Admiral Anderson.
Two shots, two kills. It would have been an achievement if it hadn't been for the fact another dozen followed behind. The command staff and their entire security detail were busy firing everything they had into the crowd of rioters currently invading the control room. Holo tables broadcasting real-time tactical feeds from a dozen battlefields now acted as cover as the two sides fought meter for meter in a blood induced brawl of guns, blades, and fist. A batarian rushed his left, the guttural noises emitted from its mouth drawing out the gunfire as it tried to slash at the Admiral with an omni blade. Falling on his back to the floor Anderson let off five rounds into the drugged-out batarians belly, each mass accelerated round tore chunks of flesh off until the body failed to move any longer.
"Hold the line! Don't let them in any further!"
Two dozen of the citadel's highest-ranking officers alongside half a dozen CSEC guards, not much but it should do against the rioters. This was CSEC high command thought, the home station of fifty thousand officers who kept rule and order over the entire station, so where the fuck where they? Anderson put those thoughts away and continued firing at the moving mass of flesh before him. With only one entrance it was relatively easy to stem the tide with a combined fire between officers and police. But it wasn't enough, one by one those closest either had to fall back or were cut down with blades and fist, their screams audible to the defenders.
Anderson was not going to die here, hell to the fuck no he was not going to die here to this mindless rabble of idiots who blamed all of this on humanity. He was an N7, the elite of the alliance and of its greatest admirals known to date. He was going to show these butchers just what the alliance….. The crowd was thinning? Turning toward their rear as something shot them in the back, something unmistakable suddenly arched overhead of those now turning toward the new threat. Something which had changed the face of warfare as they knew, something that would haunt him till the day he died, a blue laser bolt. But that was impossible, the imperials were still at the edge of the system or in the process of exiting the relay, how the hell were they already on the station?
The rioters fell in heaps of burning flesh, their ranks thinning more and more in the seconds between the first blast and Anderson recognition of the imperial weaponry. Smoke filled the hallway beyond, the rabble like sounds of the crowd now gone and replaced with single shots here and there and the screams of the dying. Anderson watched and waited for what was to come, his hands began to shake, a bead of sweat going down his back as the terror of the galaxy made itself known to the center of galactic power. Slowly, a blue glow began to be emitted from within the smoke, growing in intensity as it came closer and closer towards the defenders.
Breaking from the smoke the source of it all became clear as the white armor of an Imperial commando left the shroud. It visor the source of the light, it weapons the source of death, it was everything that made the empire, it.
This monument to their strategy, this tool to be used on battlefields far from home, now stood at the center of combined galactic operations with impunity. It was at this moment, with his back against the wall, and surrounded by what was left of the Citadel defiance that he understood it all. They had failed, the Citadel had failed. In the months of the war to end all wars, they had fought and bled to keep themselves free from this menace. How many billions had died under their command, how many worlds had been sacrificed to hold them back just one more day, one more hour? And all of it was for naught, the enemy was here, at the gates, at the center of it all, because they had failed. Who knew where this would take them, who knew what the future would bring with a galaxy ruled by these others. But what he knew, right now as he looked down at the predator in his hand, was that he would not go out lightly, he would not surrender like so many others had, he would go down like a man, a free man, and die fighting!
Pulling the predator up he emptied its entire clip into the four machines standing before him and screamed his words of defiance.
"For the Citadel, for Freedom!"
His act inspired others, as the remaining leadership opened fire alongside the human admiral. Fire raced towards the clones who returned it in kind, four bolts, four down, four bolts, four down, four bolts….. Anderson felt the blast strike his chest, the heat rendering his flesh charred as he fell to the ground in a heap of pain. His weapon fellow from his hands as he went for his chest. He felt charcoal where he should have felt the soft fabric of his uniform, not daring to look down he kept his eyes on the ceiling as he listened to the screams of what was left die-off under the clones weapons.
"Free…..Freedom…..I..Am..Free."
A blue visor entered his vision looking down on him, no emotion, no words, it just stared down at the dying admiral as he felt the life leaving his body. Cold, he was feeling cold, so very cold.
June 5, 2183
They were like tendrils of an octopus, so stretched were they, so reaching, that it would take years to hunt them all down and prepare this galaxy for his rule. He had cut off the head of this great beast, the Citadel now firmly within his grasp; he could now turn his attention on the homeworlds and last bastions of this so-called resistance. Already great battle fleets were forming at the edges of his empire as they prepared yet more expansion, more growth into the former territories of these aliens. In his home galaxy, the three wars currently brimming on the border were going, the Uish had been defeated in a two weeks time, their fragile empire crumbling under the numbers of Alien Auxilia he had sent their way. Billions of their corpses now covered the worlds he had sent their way, their numbers meant nothing to him of course. For they were tools, a resource to be used and thrown away when they were no longer required.
Those fools, those very replaceable fools, had earned some of his respect though. Through acts of bravery and courage on the battlefield, he had come to believe that maybe they could be used more thoughtfully and not as the cannon fodder role they were currently filling. Perhaps some measure of tactical importance would be placed upon the Auxilia, to make some value of their lives. Hmph, maybe.
Moving the map back toward the other side of his domain, he looked upon the thousands of ships currently orbiting the "Center" of this so-called galaxy. The Citadel, an alien construct made and built some dead race. Odd, why would they leave something like this and where had they gone? Imperial Intel had pointed out that there were sightings of those same machines that had Coruscant, a single ship had gathered a fleet of the Geth and used it to attack, for what purpose was unknown. Those same ships, their design unmatched by anything he had ever seen, had been recorded to the galactic northeast in his domain before they had so brazenly attacked the capitol. There had been no record of an alien civilization there as science ships had not mapped the hyperlanes yet, keying a switch he flipped back to the northeast and selected a marker currently moving towards this area of space. A hundred star destroyers, two dreadnoughts, and twenty-five million troops were already underway toward this region of space. They would find and deal with the source of this threat, one way or another. Moving back toward the Citadel he panned toward the galactic south and toward the prize he so wanted.
"Earth."
Three hundred years ago he had called its green and blue surface home. Three hundred years ago he had stood in its mightiest cities and basked in the greatness that was human engineering. To see it so untapped, so clean, was mesmerizing. Its oceans are full of life and vibrant to his eyes, it's a great green forest still covering a large amount of its surface. Yes, he would have it all in time. He would have it all within his grasp, he was the master of his dominion and he would see it built to withstand the test of time. He would build, conquer, and enslave upon the bedrock of this shit-filled galaxy, he would make it his own, and he would rule it all.
A chirping broke his attention away from the command table, a note signaling he was being called.
"Yes?"
"My lord, the parade is assembled as you requested, me merely your arrival sir."
Good, then it was time to show this galaxy the full might of his empire, it was time to show his face to his new subjects.
"I am leaving now, begin the march."
"Yes my lord."
Traken, always a good fellow.
Leaving the command center the Emperor took an elevator to the roof of the building before stepping out into the light of the Citadel. Roads had been paved, viewing areas constructed in the empire's honor everywhere he looked. The roads, alleys, buildings, and lots had all been filled to the brim with the survivors of this great war. Untold numbers of alien faces met his eyes as he walked onto the podium erected above the formations of soldiers who killed in his name. Overhead, just outside of the atmospheric mass effect fields which kept this station alive, thousands of star destroyers orbited the station in great formations of power and steel. On a planet, these numbers would darken the skies and impede the light of a system's sun. Here in this purple nebula, they were a reminding threat to the battles which had been fought here, to the war these people had lost. Dozens of camera drones came into view as he mounted the podium and smiled upon the might of his empire. So this was it, the last speech of the last war which would be fought here, so be it.
"People of this galaxy, people of the Empire, I come to you today as your emperor, your leader in this new time."
He let his words sink into the untold trillions watching this in real-time.
"You fought and bled where so many would have rather of turned and died and I commend you for your efforts, but the time of war is gone, the time of defiance thrown away, the times of your so-called council in the past. Today we embark together on a great crusade which will see the united front of two galaxies, for there are threats we must now face together as a single, united people."
They didn't know, of course, they wouldn't have known just what the empire fought in their own galaxy. Machine races hell-bent on destroying all organic life, hive minds which devoured flesh and bone anywhere it was found, unnumbered civilizations who were more than willing to commit untold atrocities in their name. They would learn though, as this galaxy was turned into the industrial powerhouse he envisioned it being as the great factories made the weapons which allowed his empire to stand. Billions would be shipped to the battlefront, where they would die and expand the empire in his name. But that was how this galaxy worked, there was no peace in the stars, there was no community of nations willing to work together, only the neverending war his people had become so accustomed to. Orders had already been sent to the cloning labs but it would take time to construct the armies he needed; five hundred billion clones, the largest order ever made, were to be finished within three years. Three years in which he would bleed the aliens of this galaxy dry in carrying out his goals of domination.
"The Empire stands because we are willing and able to do what is necessary to bring this era of prosperity we have fought so long for. So now I call upon you, citizens of this galaxy to remind yourselves of the new order of things, to understand just what you are now. Now, to the remnants of the resistance I call upon your surrender, as you know your borders are broken, your people shattered, and your armies dead in the field. End this bloodshed now or I will call upon the most powerful weapon ever made and ensure that you will never be a threat to this empire. You witnessed its usage on Ilium, that dreadful world of scum and villainy and it brings me to tears to say that I am willing to use it on those who would still defy me. Your defiance had been noted, but the time of fighting is over, the time of the empire is here and you have been called in to check."
A titan began making it was overhead, the shadow of it basking half of a citadel arm in its massive shape. Seventeen kilometers, damn they made them big.
"For today, I hereby decree this galaxy, belONGS, TO THE EMPIRE!"
On the roads made in his honor, they began their march, eleven million clones shook the very foundations of this station as they began their march. Taking the attention away from the Emperor it eh cameras would have noted his appearance they would have seen his eyes turn a blood red as he looked upon is unending armies with a smile.
NOTE. And so end the age of war, we now enter the age of defiance as Shepard reenters the stage set in a new light.